


Sebastian is not a replacement for Ciel's parents.

by mitzvah (Melting)



Series: (my black butler interpretation) [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Canon-typical master/slave dynamics, Depression, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, ciel asking questions about demons, this might be ooc depending on your interpretation of the show but I DONT CARE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 16:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4842818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melting/pseuds/mitzvah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> “Even wolves and lions respond well to a bit of affection, now and again.  If one feeds a lion in a zoo, the lion responds gratefully.”</em>
</p>
<p>  <em>“Young master,” replies the butler smoothly, “how would you know whether the lion is truly grateful? The lion could very well still harbor malicious intentions, gaining its strength from the naïveté of its caretakers, planning its revenge.”</em></p>
<p>  <em>Ciel steels himself, shuts his eyes, and thinks of Sebastian the dog.  “Well, that’s why I’m asking the lion.”</em></p>
<p>Ciel falls into depression as he works through his feelings about his parents' death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sebastian is not a replacement for Ciel's parents.

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Себастьян не заменит родителей Сиэля (Sebastian is not a replacement for Ciel's parents)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13656933) by [bronzza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bronzza/pseuds/bronzza)



Sebastian is not a replacement for Ciel’s parents. 

Initially, this seems obvious to Ciel, and appropriate considering that Sebastian is a _demon_ and it would be quite disrespectful to his parents’ memory to even consider comparing them with that scum of hell.  Of _course_ Sebastian is not a replacement for Ciel’s parents – Sebastian is his _butler_. That is an entirely different position in Ciel’s network of social relations than that of his parents.

What Ciel doesn’t realize, in the days immediately following the initiation of his contract with the demon, is that this means that Ciel will _never again_ be physically touched in an affectionate manner by anyone, bar Elizabeth.  Sebastian will care for the child and perform all of the practical tasks of the young earl’s grooming, scheduling, and tutoring, but the aspect of touch is always clinical.

Originally, Ciel’s grief had been channeled solely into his thirst for revenge. 

But Ciel is human.  And he is only a child.

Though he is often plagued by nightmares, he can’t help the occasional dreams of life before the tragedy. He dreams of his father’s hand on his shoulder, his mother’s arms, kisses on his forehead and cheeks, interlacing fingers.  To wake from these dreams to a reality in which he is completely physically isolated…

The depression gradually seeps into Ciel’s body.  He doesn’t notice much more than feelings of anxiety at first, hitting him at the strangest of times.  Sitting at his father’s desk, working on his studies in the late afternoon, Ciel runs his pointer finger down the smooth surface of the hardwood, leaving a trail in the polish. And then he shuts his workbook, checks again that the study is empty, and rests the side of his face against the wood, cool against his cheek, and shuts his eyes.  He can’t understand why it’s suddenly so hard to breathe.

Then, it’s morning and he doesn’t want to leave his room.  No, he can’t leave his room, can’t leave his bed, and can’t face whatever tasks Sebastian has arranged for the earl today.  Despite the boy’s protests, the butler lures him out from the covers with a tray of breakfast pastries, and Ciel bears the weight on his chest throughout the rest of the day.

But the following week he feels this again and he can’t – no – and Sebastian enters the bedroom and opens the curtains and Ciel mumbles – “Reschedule my appointments for today, Sebastian.  I’m feeling under the weather.”

Frowning, the butler removes a glove to check the boy’s temperature, but Ciel catches his wrist midair. “Don’t touch me.”

“My lord, it will be quite difficult to treat any illness you may be experiencing if you don’t allow me to check your symptoms.”

“Leave it alone – that is an order.  Get out.”

Sebastian hesitates. 

“Out!” Ciel screams.

When he is alone, Ciel pulls the bedsheets over his head and shuts his eyes.  He spends hours like this, in the dark under his blankets, in a state between sleep and wakefulness, weeping intermittently.  He can’t help the memories, the broken parts inside of him that feel so sore with grief. And it’s been almost ten months since his parents passed away, he’s mourned for them and, to an extent, recovered.  But he has no family left, in this manor.  He is all alone, and he is only a _child._

Self-pity replaces thirst for revenge and he seriously considers taking his own life. Not because he has given up on his purpose, on his desire to rip out the throats of whoever murdered his loved ones, but because it is _too difficult to go on._   He knows he must work and work to achieve his goals, but he hasn’t any will left in him. 

He is sick, and desperate, and alone.

Idly, he finds himself missing the real Sebastian, the dog, the young happy thing that would wag its tail and cover Ciel in kisses.  He misses its soft fur, he misses its vitality.  To think that even such a pure, innocent creature was also turned to ash…

There is a part of Ciel that wonders if maybe... if maybe he could just order his demon to… to be still and let Ciel remember what it feels like to be held…

Ciel removes the covers from over his head and says “Sebastian,” quietly into the stale air of his bedchambers. 

Then the butler appears by his side again, and Ciel sees those eyes, and whatever confidence he had dwindles. Rather than ask what he had hoped to ask, Ciel shivers at the thought that this is a _demon_ and he is…

Ciel sits up in bed.  Sebastian moves as if this is a cue to restore their normal morning rituals, but Ciel holds up a hand to stop him.  Then, the young earl takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly.  He still feels sore from crying.

“Sebastian,” his voice is hoarse, “are you evil?”

A moment passes, then Sebastian straightens.  The butler smiles.  “That is a complicated question, my lord.  What exactly do you mean?”

“I mean…” Ciel bites his lip in thought, “Well, I suppose I mean to ask… should I consider you to just be a predator? Like… like a wolf or a lion, who kill lesser creatures only because that is the natural order of things, and not because of any particular sadism?  Or… or are you truly just motivated by malice?”

A smirk.  “What do _you_ think, my young lord?”

Ciel has no patience for that.  “Answer the question truthfully, Sebastian.  Don’t be evasive.”

They are both silent for a few moments. 

With an eye roll, Ciel snaps, “Oh, please sit or something, it’s ridiculous for you to just stand there while I’m trying to have a conversation with you.”

“Ridiculous indeed.” Sebastian agrees, quietly, about something else entirely. Bringing a small stool from elsewhere in the room, the butler seats himself at Ciel’s bedside so that they are each at eye-level.  “Perhaps the young master _is_ ill, after all.”

“Wolves and lions,” Ciel interrupts, “are not emotionless hunting machines.  They are simply more powerful than the lesser creatures and therefore less prone to fear or terror.  Are demons like this?  Or are you just as the scripture says? Mere exaggerated personifications of all that is bad?”

“We are neither, my lord.  Perhaps, rather than speak of analogies, it would be easier if you were to ask _directly_ about whatever specific attribute of my kind has attracted your curiosity?”

Ciel frowns.  How to phrase it? The matter is so delicate, and he doesn’t want to expose his own vulnerability, but… but he’d just been thinking of suicide.  He hasn’t much dignity to lose, anyhow.

He looks Sebastian in the eye and says “Even wolves and lions respond well to a bit of affection, now and again.  If one feeds a lion in a zoo, the lion responds gratefully.”

“Young master,” replies the butler smoothly, “how would you know whether the lion is truly grateful? The lion could very well still harbor malicious intentions, gaining its strength from the naïveté of its caretakers, planning its revenge.”

Ciel steels himself, shuts his eyes, and thinks of Sebastian the dog.  “Well, that’s why I’m asking the lion.”

When Ciel opens his eyes, the demon has one eyebrow cocked. “I’m not sure I understand, my lord.”

“Hypothetically, if I were to show you, a demon, any kind of affection… would that mean anything to you? Would the gesture be completely lost on you? Would I simply end up looking like a more interesting meal?  Or a fool?”

The demon appears thoughtful, his eyes studying Ciel for a length of time. “Foolish, yes.  That would be foolish.  According to the terms of the contract, all you owe me is your soul, young master, and it would be foolish to try to give anything more. You can’t expect to receive anything more in return.”

“That isn’t what I asked, Sebastian.”

“I am not a dog.” The butler replies curtly. 

And that comment makes Ciel’s eyesight blur all over again, but he holds his resolve and demands, “If I were to, in any manner, try to make you feel _good_ , through… through verbal, physical affection, or something… would I succeed?  Or is your heart so black that it would mean nothing to you but a good laugh?”

Sebastian says nothing, still staring in fascination at the earl.

Ciel snarls.  “Oh, just tell me if you’re a heartless _bastard_ or not!”

The demon grits his teeth, but then, quietly, responds, “Young master, you are asking me this in order to expose a vulnerability.  For your butler to be the perfect soldier, such a vulnerability must be suppressed at all costs.”

“I don’t care if _you’re_ imperfect, Sebastian.  I only care that your _obedience_ is perfect.”  For Ciel, the contract doesn’t even matter much anymore. If he can’t go on living, if he has lost the energy that would have allowed him to pursue revenge, then the contract is forfeit, and so is Ciel’s soul.  Realizing this, Ciel aches for the vitality he has lost. He is so profoundly desperate for intimacy that he can feel himself dying.

Hesitance, and, finally, a sigh. “Demons… _are_ particularly emotional creatures.” Sebastian relents.  “Where angels are motivated by God’s orders, and reapers are motivated by their bureaucracy… demons are motivated by more base instincts.  We form contracts out of… hunger.  Desire.  It’s not a mechanical process.”

Ciel can’t help that a corner of his lips turns up in relief.  “And in what manner do you derive pleasure?”

A fanged grin.  “To what type of pleasure do you refer, my young master?”

“What do you- oh.  No, not…  _Sebastian,_ don’t be so crude.”

“My apologies, my lord.” Sebastian responds. “However, I will say that the more… carnal forms of pleasure are far more common among my kind.”

“How pleasant.” Ciel sighs, dismissively.

He pulls the blankets closer to his chest and massages his temples, frustrated at how difficult it is to speak plainly with the demon, who always likes to twist around everything Ciel was saying. How could he approach this question in a way that Sebastian couldn’t evade?  Then, full circle, the answer comes to him. 

“Sebastian, do you have parents?”  He asks the question, lets it out into the air where he can’t retract it despite the way hearing its echo makes Ciel’s heart hurt.  And he can’t look the demon in the eyes, because Sebastian uses eye contact as a weapon and Ciel… stares at his own fingers clutched in his bedsheets and waits for his butler to respond.

“I-” Sebastian starts, then, wistfully, “I… suppose I must have had parents at some point.”

“You don’t remember?”

“The circumstances surrounding the birth of an immortal being hardly remain important factors, over the course of an eternal existence. I… can’t say I remember, no.”

Suddenly, Ciel’s crying again, and Sebastian, unsettled, is about to start fussing over him, wiping his tears or something, but Ciel whispers, trying to maintain his broken composure, “No. S-stop. Stay.” A deep breath that rattles in Ciel’s throat.  “I- _Sebastian,_ that’s…”

When Ciel’s voice catches, and no more words are forthcoming, the demon passes Ciel the cotton handkerchief, so at least he can clean his tears himself.  “I’m sorry to have upset you.  It is hardly befitting of a Phantomhive butler, to so upset his-”

“ _Hush,_ Sebastian.” Ciel chokes out.

And then he looks at the demon.  He stares, shaking his head to himself, covering his own mouth with shaking fingers and just watching as the butler – fully bewildered by the conversation – stares back, eyes wide, lips parted slightly, in some bastardized expression of empathy.

Then, Ciel says, quiet as breathing, “From the beginning, you said that you understood me, and my desire for revenge.  But… but how can you understand my desire for revenge if you – you can’t understand what I’ve _lost?_ ”  Fingers forming fists.  “My… my mother… my father…were _taken from me_ … and you couldn’t even comprehend…”

And Ciel falls forward onto the mattress on his hands and knees, screaming at the demon:

“Did you think revenge was just a matter of _pride?!”_

(of course, the demon has no good answer for that question, stares blankly at his master, and in the void of silence, Ciel collapses, fetal and helpless, heaving choked sobs into the bedspread and covering his head with his arms.)

Silently, and with uncharacteristic trepidation, the demon rises from his seat, and seeing the boy gives no reaction, goes to fetch a clean, knit throw from the top shelf of the armoire. This, he brings back to his shaking master, and, cautiously, he drapes the blanket over the boy’s shoulders.

A small, damp hand latches onto the cuff of the demon’s suit, and then Ciel is pulling Sebastian down, and slowly but inevitably, like quicksand, the demon is enveloped in the boy’s arms, tight, the boy’s tear-stained cheek pressed hard against the demon’s head, intimately against the nape of his neck.

Knowing the boy has little strength, the demon instinctively holds him close, supporting his weight so Ciel doesn’t strain himself trying to keep ahold of his butler.

“My lord,” Sebastian says mildly, “I have never seen you so unguarded.”

Ciel scoffs, almost laughs but it turns into a sob, as he presses closer to the demon’s dark, soft hair.  “Sebastian, you… you _fool…”_ and his arms tighten around his demon’s neck, the fingers of one hand cradling the demon’s head against the boy’s shoulder, “you… you tragic _fool…”_

**Author's Note:**

> I want a story in which Ciel acts his age. I want a story in which Ciel uses his power over Sebastian - and not only that, but in a way that would make sense for a boy his age, who has suffered the trauma he has. I want a story in which Ciel wants intimacy with Sebastian - not like a lover, but like a pet, or a friend, or a teddy bear.
> 
> I want a story that explores what it means to be a demon. I want a story that explores Sebastian's motivations, and his ability to understand Ciel. I want a story that explores the differences (and similarities) between humans and demons. I want a story in which sometimes Sebastian is happy to fulfill his master's orders, and other times the contract forces him against his will. I want a story in which Sebastian wrestles with his sense of personal identity. 
> 
> And so on. And so forth. 
> 
> If you want that story too, let me know in the comments. I'd love to continue writing in this universe.


End file.
